Battle of the North: Part 1: Departure
by BeautifulEmptiness
Summary: A battle brews in the north, the men of Bayville are leaving to fight. Bayville is going through a harsh winter, and the law enforcers have a ban on magic - which does not bide well for two young women left behind. (unfinished)
1. Part 1: Chapter 1

** Authors Notes **

I don't know if this has ever been done on ff.net before regarding X-Men Evolution, but I got the idea for this and I thought it would put a new twist in.  Basically my story is in a fantasy setting – think of it as Lord of the Rings inspired X-Men Evolution.  All the main Evolution characters will be appearing in the story at some stage (although right now only a few you will recognise).  This story will be a little long, but some people seem to enjoy that.  So off we go.

****

Chapter 1

          Although dawn had come on the small village of Bayville, light did not spill over the run down shacks, nor over the small farms and markets.  Heavy white clouds hung overhead, threatening a fierce snow storm that had been expected for days.

The air was still, quiet and crisp.  A solitary rooster crowed pathetically from a neighbouring farm. 

The girl known as Rogue raised her head from her bed to glance out of the small lattice work window and gazed over the frosty village, "damn rooster," she uttered sleepily, she rubbed at her eyes and clumsily tumbled out of bed.  She washed her face in the basin of icy cold water on the oak table nearby, and dried her face on her nightgown, shivering in the cold.

"Rogue!" she heard a yell downstairs gruff and tired, just as she felt.

Rogue pulled her brown cotton dress over herself quickly, and grabbed her head rag and tied it on , stumbling out of the room across the creaking floorboards of the attic of the small cottage and descended down the stairs.

"ROGUE!" the yell came again.

"Yes, Logan, I'm coming…" she tripped up on a log that had tipped out of the log pile near the fireplace, and fell.

"Did anyone ever tell you that you are at your most elegant in the morning?" Logan asked, he was pulling on a taupe coloured shirt that had been drying in front of the remaining embers of the fire all night.  It had faded dirt stains upon it, and slight signs of soot.  Logan glanced down at her, not offering to help her up.

"I'm still half asleep," Rogue defended as she got to her feet, she dusted herself off a little, she noted the darkness that was still spread through the cottage.  "The sun has not risen?" she asked, "when I looked outside, it seemed still dark…" She lit a few candles. 

"I think we're due for that snowstorm tonight," Logan replied with a cold tone, "light the fire," he commanded of her, he pointed to the fire which had died out during the early hours of the morning, "I'll go out and chop more wood."

"We have plenty," Rogue gestured to the pile by the hearth. 

"That won't last for the months I'll be gone," Logan replied and left the cottage through the nearby carved wooden door, it slammed crudely behind him.

          Rogue glanced out of the nearby window as Logan made his way towards the thickets at the back of the cottage – the cottage being directly closest to Bayville Forest – his source for wood.  He grabbed a large axe from its wedged position in the stump he would chop wood upon, and disappeared off.

          It would be strange with Logan gone, Rogue decided as she knelt before the hearth and began to build a fire, outside she heard the distant sounds of the axe thudding against the trunk of a small tree.

          Logan would be gone for several months.  He was a carpenter by trade, but a great war was brewing in the north, and all the able-bodied men in the village had been called upon to join the Bayville armies.

It hadn't been the first time Logan had been called to battle.  However, this was the first time he'd intended to fight so far away from home, and Rogue fretted how she would manage without him around.  Money was tight, the little he made from the furniture he had created would barely cover food for a month, maybe more, and there was no telling how long he'd be away.

Rogue wished she'd learned to fight, so that she might join him in his adventures, but the women of Bayville were limited to sewing, cooking, cleaning and keeping a fire going.  These things were not much to fill up a day, while the men had their beer in the tavern, worked their trades, and hunted for game.  A woman's place was not to fight, Rogue had always been told, and Logan had never let her touch his sword, that beautiful two handed sword he always had in a sheath at his back whenever he went to battle.  He even had a name for it.  Storm.  When Rogue had asked why he'd chosen that name, he'd said that the blade, when she hit the light, she flickered like lightning, and so she'd gotten her name.

Right now, Storm was upon the large table by the door, sheathed, sitting next to his items of armour and supplies.  Rogue watched it for what felt like an hour in complete awe.  She wanted to touch it, to hold it with her hands and feel the balance of it.  She felt drawn to it, drawn to hold a sword and swing it.

Rogue listened for the thudding of the axe, it was still going strong, he would not be back for several minutes.  She got up, intent on just examining the sword.

Tentatively she made her way towards it, when her foot pressed against the creaking floorboard in the middle of the room, her heart felt as if it might have stopped, and that Logan might have walked in, she swallowed and approached the table, took hold of the sword, it was heavy that she could just barely lift it and no more. 

          The door opened again and Logan stood with an arm full of wood, he looked at her, displeased with her touching his prized sword.  "What are you doing…"  
          "There was dust on the sheath, I was wiping it off," Rogue said sheepishly, she pretended to quickly wipe the sword with her sleeve, then put the sword down.

          Logan frowned a little, but decided to let it go, "I've cut enough wood to do you a while, there's some larger chunks of it out there, but you can work an axe pretty well, it won't take too much effort to chop some more," he said, he placed it down in the pile.  Make sure you always have plenty in the house.  This shall be a harsh winter.

Rogue nodded, understanding.

"I need to leave soon."

          "Must you go?" Rogue asked, "I don't know if I can be here alone for months…especially through the winter…"

          Logan touched her shoulder tenderly, and smiled softly, "you'll be fine.  You'll have chores, and you're good with a needle, you can always mend clothes for a coin or two in the village."

          Rogue looked down, it had been the first time he'd softened to her in the last few days.  Since he'd been ordered to join the troops up north, he'd been hostile.  It was unintentional of course, but she understood he needed to maintain a cold attitude and stay distanced, to prepare himself for battle.

          Logan stepped over to table and picked his sword up, "Hold this…" he commanded, sounding cold once again.

          Rogue smiled widely, "Really?" she asked.

He nodded, and handed her the sheathed sword carefully.  Rogue accepted it, and held it within her hands, relishing the weight of it.  It felt right to be holding it, she felt powerful, and privileged.   She scrutinized the length, four foot of the finest steel in Bayville.

Logan pulled on his thick leather greaves, and then his armour, his armour was Bezainted armour, leather with thick metal discs studded into it.  He looked splendid in his armour.  He seemed taller, broader and more fierce. 

Rogue approached and handed him his sword.  While he strapped his sword sheath to his back, Rogue grabbed his knapsack and began to fill it with the items he'd need on his journey. 

Bread, cheese and water, just enough to last for a few days journey.  A wineskin, filled with a bitter homemade wine a friend had given him for saving his life.  Along with these other things, Rogue added in some rope, a small vial of herbal medicine bought from the apothecary nearby, and an extra shirt. 

Logan watched her, there was something almost ritualistic about the way she carefully wrapped the cheese and bread cloth, and placed them neatly in the bag, she checked the vial stopper was in securely and folded the extra shirt and added these.  She closed the bag.

"The bread and cheese will only last a few days," Rogue said as she handed him the knapsack, she kept her head low, to hide the expression of sadness upon her pale face.

"Its' fine, I'll be passing through more than a few villages on my way up to the north, there'll always be an opportunity to buy more food."

Rogue nodded, and kept her head low.

Logan sighed, "I know you're upset that I'm leaving, I don't have much choice…you know that."

Rogue raised her eyes to his for a few moments, "I know…just go, I'll be fine, I promise."

Logan smiled softly, "always chop as much wood as you can on fairer days, you never know when you might be snowed in.  If you must be snowed in, at least you'll be warm…" he picked up his coinbag from the table and spilled a few gold, silver and copper coins into his hand, and counted, "this is all I can spare.  Spend it wisely, haggle with the shopkeeps, and don't carry it all at once," he instructed, "I bid you farewell now."

He did not hug or kiss Rogue goodbye.  He simply squeezed her shoulder, gave her one last glance, and then left, the door closed quietly behind himself, and Rogue fell to her knees and sobbed.


	2. Part 1: Chapter 2

Chapter 2

            Lady Katherine Pryde flicked her wand towards the candle that had been sitting unlit upon the table, she frowned, deep in concentration, "Incendia quod flamma!" she cried at the candle, and pouted as nothing happened, "I can't DO this!" she yelled at her instructor and tossed her wand to the floor.  It bounced off the floorboards and then landed with a rattle and rolled away under the table.     

            Charles Xavier, her tutor, shook his head, "no no no, child, it's ALL in the way you wave the wand, don't just flick it quickly, slow and simple.  Magic cannot be rushed," he said firmly, he gestured to the wand, "and do not treat your wand in such a way, that is no ordinary piece of wood."

            Katherine sighed, picked up the wand it down on the table, "I'm sorry, Magus," she uttered softly, she crossed the room towards the large windows, the shutters tightly closed.  Magic was strictly forbidden in Bayville, and those who could perform it were incarcerated and executed.  Thus the windows would always remain closed during magic tuition. 

The train of her deep gold brocade dress trailing behind her, and she approached the shutters, and opened them widely, letting the sunlight stream in.  She gazed outside down into the busy streets of Bayville.  The Magus' residence stood on the edge of the market square.  Women rushed back and fourth, shivering in their shawls and wraps, bartering with food stall owners and choosing linens for their clothes.

            "I sense your mind is elsewhere today, my Lady," Magus Xavier stated, he remained in the seat he was burdened to, he'd lost the use of his legs many years before. 

            Katherine smiled, it was sometimes unnerving but occasionally comforting when the one person who understood her could read her mind.  A gift the Magus had been blessed with. 

            "What is troubling you, my Lady?" Magus Xavier asked, he gestured her to come over.

            Katherine left the window and came to him, drew herself a chair and sat primly, hands on the lap of her brocade skirt, "I'm concerned, Magus.  This battle in the North…almost all the men from the village have gone..." looked down, her long dark lashes seemed to almost caress her cheeks.  "I begged Piotr not to go…he's not ready for battle…he's barely been in training for a year."

            "He's a large man, Katherine, tall as a tree, strong and brave, and he fights for a cause," Magus Xavier reached over and took her small hands within his and squeezed them comfortingly.

            Katherine raised her sapphire eyes up to the Magus's cool blue eyes, and faltered for a moment, "none of us know who our men are facing against, Magus, not even the men themselves know…"

            "Dark forces, lady.  Dark forces," the Magus smiled.

            "There's been no word from the men since eight days ago…" Katherine chewed her lip, "I would have gone, had I been but ready," she confessed.

            Magus Xavier nodded, "the men would have not accepted you…this village…this land…is not ready for magic…but when the time comes and Bayville is ready to accept your talent, you must be ready," he said tenderly, "Have…you been practicing your own magic?"

            Katherine turned and stared, it had been a while since together the Magus and herself had discovered her ability to move freely through objects almost like a ghost.  She had almost forgotten, there had been so much more on her mind. "No…" she sighed, "I need to hold my breath to pass through objects, and…well," she felt her face growing hot, "my waist cinchers and tight bodices hardly leave room for breathing," she explained.

            Magus Xavier nodded, "practice at night, when you can be free of clothing restraints."

            "Magus!" Katherine's cheeks flushed deep crimson, she headed for the door.

             He smiled, "Have I embarrassed you?  I meant not to.  I would suggest perhaps in your night clothing…"

            Katherine pulled the door open, "I must go…"

            "Do not forget your wand," the Magus gestured towards the table.

            Katherine laughed nervously, "sorry…" she hurried to the table and slipped it up the sleeve of her dress to hide it from public view, "I'll be back again tomorrow…"

            Rogue handed over two copper coins to the baker for a small loaf of bread and sighed to herself unhappily.  She'd been trying to barter, but the baker was having none of it.  She placed the bread in the basket hanging from her arm, and set off on her way.  She still had things to buy.

Paying full price for bread had always fine when Logan was in Bayville but now, it was severely depressing.  There was always enough money for food when Logan was present but now was not the case.  Rogue began to fret, the money was barely lasting eight days after Logan's departure and there was no real telling how long he'd be gone – or even if he ever would return.

Rogue had tried offering her needling services at the tailor but there had been no positions available.  Almost every woman in Bayville knew how to use a needle and thread, and with almost every man in Bayville gone to battle, all the women had taken to looking for work to cope with the costs of living. 

Every available job in Bayville village had been taken, farm work, sewing, weaving, baking…there seemed to be no end to the filled positions.  Rogue despaired, she was never going to cope.  

_I should have gone to the Battle WITH Logan_, Rogue decided, snowflakes kissed her bare cheeks as she headed along the edge of the town square towards the candle makers shop on Rose street.  The air was bitterly cold, and Rogue's bare fingers burned as did her toes beneath her flimsy cloth boots. 

The warmth in the candle makers shop was welcoming as was the familiar face of Scott Summers who was positioned at the counter as always.  As Rogue pushed open the wooden framed thick stained glass door, a little bell sounded, and Scott Summers turned his head towards the door.

Rogue smiled a little, although he'd never know that smile was there unless she opened her mouth.  Scott had not been in Bayville for long.  He'd come in with his father, who'd bought the candle makers shop from an elderly man who'd been retiring.    At the moment, Scott was in charge of the shop because his father had gone to battle, with almost every other man in Bayville.  Scott had remained, being blind was no good to anyone in battle.

  Scott would wear a strip of grey rag tied over his eyes and he'd use his hands to feel his way around the shop.  Rogue thought it would be rude to ask how he'd become blinded and so it remained a mystery to her. 

"Greetings, Rogue," Scott said, his voice was soft but clear, and full of seriousness.

"How'd you know it was me?" Rogue asked, she stepped over, placing her basket on the countertop, she walked over to a rail, several candles were hanging by their wicks from the rails, different lengths and thicknesses, some moulded with intricate designs, others smooth and perfect. 

"You always have a distinct scent of furniture wax," Scott replied simply.

Rogue's cheeks flushed scarlet, he was right of course, although it wasn't noticeable unless you stood close enough. 

Logan had always been most particular about Rogue's cleaning, and all the furniture in the cottage he had built himself.  From the carved chairs, smooth tables, sturdy oak bedframes to the filigree window shutters, the fan carved bevelled panelled doors, and the sturdy staircase and its intricate rail.  Everything had to be polished with wax, no matter how long it took.

"Yes," Rogue said, she picked up six candles from the rail and walked over, "Logan likes me to polish all the furniture in his house," she explained as she placed the candles on the counter.  "He says its bad business if someone should come to the cottage to ask him to build something and see badly cared for furniture."

Scott placed his hands down on the counter, felt around and found the candles, examining them with his fingers.  "Is Logan in battle with the others?"

Rogue nodded, but then blushed remembering he would not see this, "yes, he is…" she answered nervously, she put down the accurate coinage for the candles.

"Aren't you scared, sitting up in that cottage all alone?  It being right next to the Forest and all," Scott asked.

"The Forest has never bothered me much.  Trees don't scare me," Rogue confessed, she watched Scott's fingers trail across the coins, then pick them up and put them into a small wooden box that had a lock on it.  Rogue picked the candles up and put them into the basket.

"It's what lives in the thickets of those trees that would bother me," Scott replied and put the box away behind the counter.

Rogue put the basket back on her arm, "the only thing that really bothers me is the cost of living.  Logan's gone, no money is being brought in and I can't find any work."

            "I wish I could help you, Rogue," Scott sighed softly, "unfortunately there's barely enough work here for me to do and the cost of wax has gone up because now the beekeepers have to come in from outside of Bayville, it takes longer to deliver – I can't afford to take on an assistant right now."

            "I understand," Rogue gave a distant sigh, "thanks anyway, Scott."

            Rogue left the shop feeling crestfallen, even Scott Summers had no place for her in his shop, or in his life for that matter.  Rogue had always had feelings for him, but she'd never found the courage to tell him.  Traditionally it was a man who would do the wooing, not the other way around.

            _What would I do with him?  Every time I've ever touched someone they've gotten hurt.  I'm cursed, and nothing seems to lift it_, she thought as she walked along.  This curse was something that had hung over Rogue's head all her life.  As her skin would brush against another's she'd feel their energy, and their talents and skills would temporarily become hers – it may have seemed a blessing if the memories of the individual did not also plague her, and every time it happened, pieces of those memories would remain with her forever, haunting her. 

            Rogue was almost sure this is how she'd become an orphan, she thought possibly she maybe had accidentally killed her parents with this curse, or they'd abandoned her because of it.

If it had not been for Logan travelling from the West returning from a battle, she may have died out in the cold, for she'd been found wandering down a road in the pouring rain.  She'd been but three years old, and had not been able to speak to even tell Logan her name.  He'd taught her all he'd known, and brought her up like his own daughter.  He'd named her Rogue because at the age of three she'd been a trouble maker, climbing onto tables, knocking over chairs, always up to some mischief.

            She was dwelling on those thoughts as she continued her shopping trip, and wished Logan would return safe from battle soon.

            Lady Katherine Pryde glanced up to the sky, a light snow had begun to fall down over the town square as she left the tower Magus Xavier resided in.  She wished she'd brought her shawl, and scolding herself for never being prepared enough, she headed off in the quickest direction to home.  This meant passing the dreaded fish cart.  The stench was always disgusting, and Katherine hated it.  The smell would cling to her finery and in her hair and she would spend hours bathing trying to rid herself of it.

As she walked towards that direction, she thought of Piotr and hoped that in battle he would survive.  She missed him terribly and wished him back with her.  She'd been in love with him since the moment she'd first met him in the courtyard.  He'd been a new addition to the staff in her father's manor, a stable boy, in charge of the horses. 

With jet black hair and eyes the most stunning shade of blue, every female servant had been swooning over Piotr Rasputin, but Piotr had always remained quiet and reserved, and would barely speak to anyone, even to Katherine.  And on the rare occasions he did speak, his cheeks would flush bright pink.

It had only been in the last few months Piotr had begun to learn the ways of the sword – which was fortunate for him otherwise he would be going to battle with no knowledge of fighting at all.  Katherine was almost certain Piotr aspired to be a knight, but even she realised his chances of this were slim.  Knighthood was for those of noble birth, or for those who had been knighted by royalty.  Poor stable boys rarely ever were honoured with the title.

Breaking free of her thoughts and pining for Piotr, she finally she approached the fishstall, and held her breath as she passed.  Unfortunately, this was something that seemed to more or less automatically trigger her magical ability to pass through objects – and it caused her to pass through someone who had just rushed around the corner.  There was a gasp as who had passed through her spun around, tripped and fell right through her to the ground in shock and she turned, she did not recognise the girl.

            Rogue winced as her back hit the paving, and she tried to get up, "what…what happened?" she asked, although she could almost be sure she knew what had…she had passed through someone as she'd been walking towards the fish stall.  Rubbing the back of her head which had taken a bang against the paving stones.

Glancing up she saw several unfamiliar faces looming over her, standing nearby, a young woman of similar age to herself was standing in all her fine clothes, a dress of deepest gold brocade with an intricate satin bodice laced with gold, the shoulders were winged, and the hem ended in piccadils.  Her brown hair was pulled back in a golden lace and pearled snood, her eyes were sapphire blue, her cheeks flushed and her lips rose pink.  Along her slim neck a fine gold necklace with a rampant lion pendant shimmered.

            "What happened?!" one of the villagers who had witnessed the accident occur.

            "They passed right through each other!"

            The young lady in her all her finery looked around guilty, Rogue tried to get up but her back was a little too sore to stand just yet.  Rogue felt it might be lucky for the young woman that they had passed through each other, any skin to skin contact could have caused a nasty reaction in the young woman, she might have fainted.

            "Hey!  Look at the necklace!" one of the other villagers pointed out, "she's a Pryde!"

            "She's lady Katherine Pryde!" another villager proclaimed.

            "Lady Pryde…" one of the villagers bowed humbly, "I do hope you weren't hurt…" he said.

            Lady Katherine moved back a little, "I…uhm…"

            "Magic is forbidden!" another villager yelled.

            "Magic was at use here?" a law enforcer shoved his way through the crowd, he looked at both young women, clearly angry and distressed, he raised a hand and snapped his fingers, a further two law enforcers following.  "Lady Katherine…" he seemed slightly embarrassed at realising who the young lady in gold brocade was and he bowed slightly.

            Lady Katherine looked at Rogue, clearly panicked, then pointed a trembling finger at her, "she…she did it."

            Rogue gaped, "you lying b—" she tried to get to her feet and as she stumbled she found herself restrained at each arm by the two law enforcers who had made their way through the crowds. 

            "Shut your mouth, peasant!" one of the law enforcer growled.

"Take her to the prison!" the chief law enforcer yelled, he gestured for the crowd to move aside to let them pass. 

Rogue was dragged bodily, "I didn't DO anything!" she yelled, "it was HER!" she swung her head in the direction of Lady Katherine who was standing looking positively petrified, her blue eyes were wide, her mouth hanging open.  Rogue turned, stumbling on the cobblestones as the villagers spit and hissed at her.

"WITCH!" they chanted at her with harsh expressions.

Rogue felt tears sting her eyes, when she turned to look back to see Lady Katherine, she was gone. 


	3. Part 1: Chapter 3

Chapter 3

            Lady Katherine Pryde stepped through the hallway of her family mansion, her heels clicking loudly on the polished marble floors.  She held the front of her dress up as she began to make her way up the grand staircase.

            "My lady!" she heard the familiar voice of one of her servants, young Robert Drake.  Robert wore the deep blue uniform that all the serfs who worked in the Pryde residence wore, he looked dapper and regal, although this was not always the way he behaved when he thought no one of importance was watching.

            "Yes, Robert?" Katherine stopped on the staircase and leaned over the banister slightly, "what is it?"

            "Three more of your serfs have gone to battle in the North," Robert replied, seeming quite distressed, "and two are planning to leave tonight…"

            "They've been called upon?" Katherine asked, beginning to immediately concern over this.  Piotr had not been the only serf under her employment to leave for the battle.  Five of them had gone off, they'd been the only ones called upon for battle. 

            "Yes, my lady," Robert nodded curtly, "from the look on the grim faces of the Paladins who came to call upon them, I could only assume that our men are not winning the battle in the north."

            Katherine could immediately tell even Robert was concerned, he was not his normal mischievous laughing self.   She caught herself wondering how long it would be before the youngsters of Bayville would be called upon to face the battle.  Robert was barely fourteen, and barely possessed enough skill to wield a wooden stick let alone a .  

Breaking out of her thoughts, she nodded, "Thank you for informing me," she said quietly, and began her way up the stairs, disappearing down the hallway, and then the slam of doors could be heard bouncing and echoing off the silent walls of the mansion. 

Rogue was dragged into the stone prison of Southern Bayville, the place was located in the slums, the place has fallen into disrepair, but still it held people within its cold stony cells.  The place reeked of despair, and as they came through the heavy wooden doors, distant cries and groans echoed down the long corridors.

"Where do you want her?" one of the Law enforcers asked of the Chief.  He and two other enforcers had Rogue's arms pulled back behind her back so tightly it was hard to move at all.  Rogue wished – that just once – they might accidentally graze her bare hands and cause the magic of her skin to work its wonder and have them pass out, they'd let go, she could make a run for it.  But there was no such luck.

The Chief frowned, "throw her in the oubliette, it'd be a bad idea to put her anywhere else…this…magic…she has…will do her no good down there..."

Rogue's panic surged even more.  She knew what an oubliette was, it wasn't a normal prison, it was a dungeon, a dungeon that could only be entered and exited through a hatch in the ceiling of it.  People were usually left there to die.

"I'm INNOCENT!" Rogue screamed, for the hundredth time since they'd accosted her.  They seemed determined to not listen or let her have her say – she felt fury building up within herself, "It was that Lady Katherine!!!  She did it!  Not me!" she struggled as violently as she could, it seemed to take no effort from the enforcers to hold her back.

"Lady Katherine is a lady of quality, her family have lived in this village for generations, her father was the King's right hand!" the Chief growled, "How dare you accuse a fine lady like herself of such malevolence, filthy peasant!" he spat at her.

Rogue turned her head to try and avoid the spit, she swore under her breath and tried to muster up enough strength to break free, it wasn't working.  If only Logan had taught her how to defend herself, she might have had a fighting chance with these enforcers.  She regretted the fact she'd been born female, if she'd been a man this never would have happened – she'd have been away to battle with Logan and the other men of the village, not stuck here in this town treated like slime on someone's shoe for a crime she didn't commit.

"I'm going to the Pryde mansion to get a statement from Lady Katherine.  Once we have her statement in writing, we can perform a burning," The Chief enforcer grabbed a scroll of paper from the desk.

"A burning?!" Rogue demanded, "I'm not a witch!" she screeched.

"Shut up!" the Chief slapped her with the back of his gloved hand.

Rogue felt the pain blinding through her face for some moments, she tasted blood within her mouth and when she opened her eyes everything seemed slightly blurry for several seconds.

The Chief drew his breath, sucking in anger, "Put her down the oubliette, I'll be back soon."

Rogue looked desperately at him, "Please!  Believe me!  I didn't do anything!"

The enforcers began to drag her down the corridor, her feet slid across the floor, she tried to dig her heels into the cracks of the stone floor but nothing would delay them from dragging her.  She was pulled into a small dark room, a hatch lay open already in the floor, and infinite darkness seemed to dwell below, and she was almost positive she could hear the scurry of rats.

"NO!  Please!" she screamed, tears beginning to form in her eyes.

And then she was thrown, and down she began to go, it seemed like an eternity before she hit the floor with a hard thud.  Her fingers felt straw and stone beneath them, and her back felt every bump.  Rogue glanced up to the ceiling she'd just come through, it seemed ten feet above that the dim light from the room above seeped in through the hatch.  A bloodcurdling creaking broke through the quiet, and then a loud echoing thud.  Darkness only remained, and Rogue was alone in the oubliette.

Katherine slipped her wand into an oblong box lined with velvet, and shut it sharply, slipped a small key into the small lock at the front and twisted it swiftly.  A quiet click ensured her secret was safe.  She took hold of the pendent of the necklace she always wore, it had her family crest upon it – the rampant lion.  She pushed the very small button at the side of the pendent and it opened up, a fine locket it made, and she slipped her key inside it, shutting it securely with a sigh.

The face of the girl she'd run into in the market square stayed painted fresh in her mind, that expression of disbelief, and loathing over what Katherine had done.  It remained there in her head, and she doubted it would go away for some time. 

Guilt was building up the more she would think of it, eating at her.  It had been two hours since the incident, and already it was beginning to drive her mad. 

But what can I do?  She asked herself sternly.  I might be the daughter of the kings former right hand, but I have no say over what the law enforcers do or don't do.  There's no way they'll release her, even with my plea.  And if I beg them – they'll know what I've done…

Katherine put her wand case beneath a secret trap door under the rug near her cabinet, and prayed no one would ever stumble upon it.  Just as she had placed the edges of the rug back down securely, a knock at her door caught her attention.  She moved quickly to the desk, sat down, and placed her hands primly upon her lap, feigning an expression of complete innocence, and spoke the word, "come."

The door slid open, and Robert Drake entered, he bowed before her first, then stood straight and rigid, "Chief Kelly of the Law Enforcers has arrived, and is requesting to see you urgently."

Katherine sighed, "did he say what it was about?" she stood slowly, and approached Robert.

Robert shook his head, "I did ask, but he said only that it was Enforcer business only.  He's waiting in the study, my lady."

"Thank you," Katherine said humbly, and left through the door he'd left open.  She travelled down the warm hallways, then down the grand staircase, and along the way to the private study, where Katherine would work on all her correspondence and meet with her financial advisors.

Chief Kelly stood by the desk, hands behind his back, he looked pleasant, and cordial, but Katherine saw right through it, knowing if she'd been anyone other than someone of regal birth, he would not have been so congenial towards her.  "My lady," he bowed, and reached out for her hand to brush his lips against her knuckles.

Katherine took her hand back slowly, "I trust this isn't a social visit?" she asked.  She hoped this appointment would be over with in minutes, as she did not want him lingering around her house. 

"I'm afraid not, my Lady," he stated.

Katherine stepped over to the sideboard, a crystal decanter filled with some wine remained there, some glasses by it side, "can I interest you in a drink?" she asked, being obliging despite her incredible dislike for the man.   She poured herself a glass of wine, and took a slight sip. 

"Perhaps just a little," Chief Kelly moved over, as she poured a glass for him.  "I come regarding the incident earlier today," he said.

The hairs on the back of Lady Katherine's neck stood on end from the fear that instilled her as those words passed his lips.  _By the gods, he's realised he's arrested the wrong woman, he's here to take me to that terrible prison_, she panicked.

"Is there a problem?" she asked lightly, trying to remain very calm whilst inside her heart was thudding so loudly she could hear it within her own ears.

"Not particularly, no, it is just that I must confirm the events that took place before any action can be taken against the foul witch who caused the incident."

"Oh…" Katherine said, and handed him his glass of wine, her nervous heart still beating strong.  "And what action would be taken against her?" she asked, quite innocently.

"Well, she'd be executed, of course, my lady.  Witchcraft is grounds for execution, you know this," he replied.

Katherine felt quite sick, the room seemed to sway around her and she was sure this was not from the wine she'd just sipped.  "But it was a mere accident, it was not as if she meant to do it…"

"You know the law."

Katherine felt despair grasp her within.  This could have been her life on the line instead of this peasant girl who had been a total innocent in the whole ordeal.  "But…think, I mean how would you feel if you accidentally used magic and hadn't meant to, would you be able to stand up to the charges of illegal use of magic?"

Chief Kelly snorted, "this would never be me.  Besides, the girl obviously must have known about her cursed power, why did she not evacuate the village?"

"Perhaps she did not know?" Katherine tried.

"She knew.  She's been a resident of this town for most of her life, I've seen her around.  I'm sure she's the wife of that carpenter who lives near the forest.  I've seen them together."

"She seemed a little young to be a wife," admitted Katherine softly, she looked away, lost in thought.

"Younger women make better wives, so I'm told," Chief Kelly replied, he put down his wine glass on the sideboard, and then retrieved the scroll from a satchel on his hip, "I need you to sign this, Lady Katherine."

"What is it…?" Katherine put down her own glass and took the scroll from his hand, she unrolled the paper and stared at the fine black writing.

"It's a statement, I've already prepared the details of the assault, you just need to sign your name to confirm it for us," Chief Kelly answered quickly, his eyes lighting up at the possibility of an execution within hours.

            Katherine's eyes travelled over the words.  The first paragraph chilled her.

**I the undersigned testify that the prisoner in question**

**Unlawfully used witchcraft against me to do harm for **

**Personal gain.****  I fully support the Law Enforcers duty**

**To execute the accused accordingly.******

            The document went over several things, none of which seemed to have any relevance to the case and seemed more or less made up information to ensure the execution of the girl. 

Katherine pressed her tongue against her cheek, she went over the words several times.  It seemed a pitiful statement, short, and unjust and incorrect.  The magic had not been used against her because she'd been the one to cause it.   And she did certainly not support the Law Enforcers duty to execute the girl who'd been given the blame.

            _I can't tell him_, she thought worriedly, she rolled the scroll up in her hands, holding it for several moments trying to decide how to handle the situation.  _If I tell him, I'll surely be executed – a vocal confession is all it would take to sign my own death warrant…but I'm certainly not going to sign this…peasant's…death warrant, even if she is only the wife of a carpenter_.

            "Is…everything alright?" Chief Kelly asked.

            Katherine came to her senses, realising she'd been silent for some time, "I…no, it isn't," she said, she feigned a smile, and held onto the scroll tightly, "You must understand that before I sign anything, I must have it looked over by my advisor."

            Chief Kelly seemed very displeased, "may I ask why?"

            Katherine's answer came quickly and accurately, and she thanked the heavens for her knowledge of the law, something her father had insisted her learning during her education..  "Under the law, anyone under the age of eighteen must have a parent, custodian or someone of counsel overlook any document that requires a signature.  You know that, Chief Kelly."

            Chief Kelly's mouth twitched a little, eyes flickering with annoyance, "I thought in this case I could make an exception, I am the Chief after all."

            "And I am the daughter of the man who was once the right hand of the King and for all I know there could be something misleading in this fine print that could cost me everything in my possession.  This is my final word.  I shall have my advisor overlook it, then, I will send it with – or without – my signature depending on what he feels I should do on the situation."

            Chief Kelly nodded, "alright, but please don't take too long."


	4. Part 1: Chapter 4

Chapter 4

            Logan glanced down over the vast forest of Graymalkin from where he and his small party stood on the top of a mountain that stood several hundred feet over the forests they would have to travel through.  A sense of foreboding seemed to swim along the air, and from where he stood he could see the forest floor was thick with mist.  "Doesn't seem right…" he uttered coldly, he frowned, glancing across the forest.

            "Don't tell me you're scared…" one of his party snorted.  His name was Sean Cassidy, and he was a tall handsome man, with ginger hair and honest green eyes.  He was broad, and strong, and was not afraid of hard work.  He'd come in from some other land, a land Logan had never heard of before.  The man's brogue was thick and extremely foreign to him. 

            "I never get scared," Logan replied hoarsely, he used one knee to go down upon the ground, resting his arm upon the other knee, he touched the soil near his feet, "ground looks like we're not the first to be here.  Air is thick with the stink of sweat."

            Sean moved over and knelt beside him, "I smell nothing," he replied, "but you seem to be accurate, this soil has been walked upon before, and here…" he pointed to an obvious hoof-print, "horses…seems like there's been more than one person."

            "Probably just another party on their way to the north.  We are not the only ones travelling there, do not forget," another of Logan's party added in, he stood nearby adjusting his backpack.  His name was Henry McCoy.  A large well built gentleman who had been well educated.  He'd been travelling from the nearest town to Bayville, a place called Bast, he'd been what he claimed a 'scientist' there. 

Logan did not know much about science, but he knew a trustworthy face, and sensed Henry – or Hank as he liked to call himself – would be a useful addition to the team.  He had several concoctions – healing potions and other such things and any man who was willing to share what little food he had in his backpack was worth having along. 

Logan looked at Hank, and frowned, "I'd assume so, but somethin' doesn't feel right…trust me on this."

"We could go the long way – around the forest…but that's six more days walking than we'd need."

"If we cut through the forest we could do it in two," Logan said, "we go in…" he said, making himself the self appointed leader, "but we stay on our guards…" he glanced over his back to see the rest of the party, some local farmers and such from Bayville.  Half of them looked barely strong enough to wield their swords, several of them had seen too many winters in their lives.  Gnarled fingers clutched weakly at their heavy backpacks and shields, and weak legs would stumble upon the hard earth.

"Who are we battling?"

Logan turned, not recognising the voice nor the particular accent.  The large boy of around eighteen stood at the back of the party, his blue eyes piercing.   He now remembered.  This was the stable boy of a wealthy household in the exclusive section of Bayville.  His name was Piotr, and he'd come to Bayville from some other land.  He had not spoken a word in the eight days they'd been journeying together, but he'd never complained or dithered once.  He worked hard, he journeyed without problem, and he was as strong as an ox. 

"No one knows," Logan replied, "All we know is we were sent for by an Asgard messenger, they are under attack."

"Asgard?" Piotr asked quietly, his voice deep but soft.

"Asgard and Bayville have an allegiance to each other.  The distant kin of the King of Asgard founded Bayville," Sean replied.  "I believe that the right hand – the kings personal guard – was a resident of Bayville.  Until he died a year ago in battle. 

"Carmen Pryde," Logan nodded, "I watched him die, there was little I could do to stop the bleeding," he sighed.  "Considering you've only been in Bayville for two years, Sean, you know your stuff."

Sean gave a slight smile, "I made it my duty to learn about the history of Bayville – how can I battle for it if I don't know what I'm battling for?"

"Good point," Logan got up and slapped Sean's arm amiably, "let's go.  We have some miles to cover before it gets dark."

            Lady Katherine Pryde gazed at herself in the mirror as she tucked her long hair into a twist behind her head and pulled on the muffin cap that matched the plain grey tweed dress she was wearing, some clothing borrowed from one of her female servants – actually, she'd slipped into the girl's room and taken it without permission, but she'd return it.  She hated the thought of going out dressed like a peasant, but she felt she had little choice in the matter. 

            Leaving the family mansion after darkness fell was dangerous in Bayville and there were several reasons why.  Thieves tended to roam the streets in the dark, slithering in the darkness like the snakes they were.  They preyed only upon the wealthy, and Katherine knew that by dressing in simple peasants clothes she might have a better chance of getting through the streets unnoticed.   

Apart from thieves, she had the fear of being recognised, it would severely dent her reputation as a lady of quality if she should be seen out on her own at night.  Several villagers would assume she'd been up to no good with men, alcohol, or both. 

There was the added fear that just maybe some of the Law Enforcers would be watching her moves, and she had to be discrete if she was going into the town square at night

            _I look too clean_, she thought.  Cleanliness was something many peasants didn't have, half of them could barely afford soap, and several just didn't bother to wash.  If she wanted to go by undetected by anyone,   She walked over to the large stately fireplace twelve feet south of her bed,

_I can't believe I'm going to actually be dirty willingly_, she made a face  and pressed her fingers into the ashes on the hearth, she dusted her fingers with it and then patted her cheeks with it, then rubbed it in a little, she glanced back to the mirror.

            _That's it_, she nodded at herself satisfied, but cringing.   She promised herself a hot bath when she returned.  She slipped the scroll with her unsigned statement into the garter of her stocking under her skirt, grabbed a shawl she'd also stolen, pulled it over her, and headed off on her way out of the mansion.  She took a servants tunnel, and luckily ran into no one from her staff.  She thanked the gods, and continued.

            It was easier slipping out of the mansion without being seen than she had expected it to be.  Soon, she was slipping through a servants gate at the back of the estate, and walking along the cobbled path in shoes that were a size too big for her dainty feet. 

            Katherine hated walking down the long road from her Mansion to Bayville.  There were no lights at either side and the only light that showed her the way was the moon above.  Lines of trees stalked at each side of the road, and their branches cast shadows upon the damp cobbled path, seeming like long black tenacious fingers reaching for her.

            Soon, she was in the village itself.  At night Bayville was incredibly frightening.  Although the village was full of cosy little homes with their warm fire and candle light seeping out of the latticed windows, the streets were still dark, and unnerving.  Strange flickering shadows would dance along the streets from lanterns hanging on porches.  A light snow was drifting over the village but a biting chill swept all around.

            Eventually, after her long walk in the dark, she found herself outside the Magus's house.  His house was actually a tower above a small weavers store.  In the dark, the tower looked over the square, and Kitty shuddered, it made her very uneasy.  She forced herself to press on, and approached the front door.  She had a key, and she slipped the key into the creaking lock and twisted it hard, hearing it click loudly.  The door groaned as she pushed it in and slipped into the dark hallway.  She began to go up the winding stone staircase that lead to the Magus's chamber.

            "Magus?" she asked softly, she knocked upon the door.  She hated to enter without knocking, always remembering her manners.

            "Come in, Katherine."

            Katherine stepped in slowly, and closed the door behind her.  She'd never seen the Magus's chamber at night time.  Several candles were lit, and the fireplace was roaring, the warmth welcoming.  "I'm sorry to bother you so late in the day, Magus, but I had to ask your counsel."

            The Magus was sitting upon a hand woven rug in the middle of the floor, his legs crossed, his position composed yet relaxed.  Katherine had never seen him sit anywhere other than that large wooden chair of his.  It seemed odd to see him sitting somewhere else.   He had on his fine deep red robes with gold piping, and a shimmering gold turban with a glimmering jewel upon his head. 

"Sit…" the Magus offered, patting the area in front of him, he seemed hardly fazed by her sudden appearance, almost as if he'd expected her.

            Katherine slipped her bonnet off, it had become soaked with the snow.  She placed it – along with her damp shawl – in front of the fire to dry, then approached the rug and knelt down.

            Magus Xavier smiled, "close your eyes…" he said softly.

            Katherine closed her eyes, just as she was told, she knew what he was going to do before he had said anything else.  He was going to use his magical powers of the mind to find out what was troubling her. 

            "Concentrate on your troubles, my lady," Magus Xavier requested, he placed his fingertips lightly on each side of her face, his thumbs pressing against her temples.

            Katherine did so, everything coming back so vividly to her, the look on the girl's face, the blame, what Chief Kelly had said…everything. 

            When the mind reading was over, the Magus moved back from her, placing his hands lightly upon the lap, "you blamed the girl when your own powers had been the cause of the incident."

            "I didn't mean to…it just came out," Katherine explained softly, "I'd been thinking about other things…and we ran into each other…kind of…"

            Magus Xavier nodded solemnly, "I know, I saw it in your mind, my lady.  However, now, this girls life is in your hands…something must be done…"

            Katherine blushed, "can you look away for a moment?" she asked. 

            The Magus turned his head, and Katherine raised the skirt of her dress and pulled the scroll free from her stocking.  She smoothed the dress back down and reached over with the scroll.

            "They want me to sign this," Katherine said as the Magus took the scroll from her.  "Chief Kelly seemed insistent on it, and wants me to do it quickly.  I told him I needed to have this overlooked by an advisor."

            The magus unrolled the papers and read the text within quickly, "You must not under any condition sign this…" he said, "under the law, they cannot execute her until you testify magic was used against you.  As long as this is unsigned, they cannot do anything but keep her locked away in that dreadful prison."

            Katherine nodded, "that's what I thought," she nodded, "But what do I do now?  I can't hold it off forever, and sooner or later Chief Kelly will want it back signed…and if I don't sign he's going to question why…and then he may guess I caused this…not her."

            "I think it's time to advance your knowledge, Katherine," The magus said, and he paused in thought for a moment, "Yes, yes, I think it is time…"

"For?" Katherine asked curiously.

"I think it's time to teach you the Somnus spell."

            Katherine raised an eyebrow, "the WHAT?"


	5. Part 1: Chapter 5

Chapter 5

            The forest of Graymalkin loomed around them with its thick tangles of branches, and its lurking shadows as the small party of men carried on further through the thickets on their journey to the north.  Logan was growing more and more concerned as they journeyed on, his senses were telling him they were not alone in the forest.  "I'm pretty sure we're bein' followed," he quietly uttered to the nearest man, who happened to be Sean.

            "You're not the only one who thinks it," Sean replied in little more than a whisper, as to not draw attention and cause panic within the party.  "I've become quite aware of badly covered footprints beneath the leaves," he admitted.  "Someone has been walking in circles…as if they're waiting," he stated softly.  "They move strangely…as if on all fours…the footprints are so close together…"

            Logan glanced quickly at his travelling companion, noticing that one hand always remained on the dagger in his belt.  He admired a man who was always prepared for danger at any given moment. 

            "Maybe it is just the ghost stories of this forest that give you cause for concern," spoke up Piotr who had heard from where he'd been walking slightly behind.

            "Ghost stories?" Logan scoffed, "what wet nurse told you stories of here to get you to behave, kid?" he asked with a smirk, he stopped, and the party stopped with him.

            Piotr frowned, "it is true.  There are stories of a demon who wanders the woods at night, and appears when shadow is thick with silvery yellow eyes that glimmer in the blackness."

            Logan and Sean both laughed heartily, holding their bellies, and the rest of the party joined in loudly, it had been the first light moment of the past nine days.  The concept of this was far too hard to believe.  And besides which, what proof did the boy have?

            "Kid, I've been passin' back and forth through this forest near all my life – and I've NEVER come across anything remotely resembling a demon.  Thieves…beggars, the occasional wolf…but no, no demons.  I think whoever told you this is pulling your leg."

            Piotr glowered at Logan, in the light from the moon that broke through the trees, he almost looked menacing in his anger.

            "Lad, that's just a rumour, there is no demon, trust me," Sean slapped Piotr on the back playfully.  "It's just not possible."

            Piotr did not seem impressed, "Is it not?"

"Never mind believing in non-existent demons.  You better start focusing on what really COULD be in here with us…the armies from the north, those who oppose us – their weaknesses we know NOT," Logan reminded.  "Stop tellin' wild stories and concentrate on the task at hand."

Piotr grumbled something in another language under his breath, and walked off on his own, disappearing into the thickets.

            "Hey!  Pi-o…Pete!" Logan tried to pronounce the name but found the nearest best thing, "don't go runnin' off in your own in a huff, we need to stick together!!"

            "I think you hurt his pride," Sean said sadly.

            Logan shook his head, "We better go after him…"

"Uhm…my friends?" Hank asked softly, he tapped Logan on the shoulder.

"What?!" Logan asked, spinning around, he turned to check with the rest of the party before continuing but they were no longer there, no signs of struggle or any distant sounds of footsteps suggested what could have happened to them.  "What the—"

            "Where the hell did they go?!" Sean asked, looking around confusedly, "they were just THERE!  I saw them!"

            "Nuuuuuuuuugh!" came a strangled cry from deep inside the thickets.

            Sean put a hand on his dagger, jumping in surprise, "Piotr!" he cried, rushing towards the thickets.

            Logan grabbed his arm, "Wait!  We can't just run in without knowing what we're up against!" he cried at him.

            "We're under ambush, we've lost our men, we might still save Piotr!" Hank suggested.

            Logan grumbled, "fine."  With that final word, the two rushed into the thickets, unaware what lay ahead.  They had barely gotten ten feet into the tangled trees and branches when they were ambushed with tangles of steel wires, hundreds of lines of it, almost like a spiders web pulsing around them.

            "What is this magic?!" Sean gasped, trying to free himself, the hand that had drawn his dagger from the sheath had let go of the only weapon he had.

            Hank tried to use his incredible strength to free himself, but barbs were appearing on the wire and it was slicing into his hands and arms as he tried to move it.  Barbs pierced his legs, his neck, his cheeks, blood begun to pour from every wound, his wrist sliced easily, and blood was spurting from the wound.  "It is as if it LIVES on its own!!" he cried. 

            "Not quite."

            The voice had come from above.  Silhouetted against the full bright moon, the figure of a man was floating, he raised his arms, his hands seemed to beckon the slithering wires, his fingers twirling them around the men. 

            Logan took quick notice that Piotr was there, and the others from their party.  He winced as one of the razor barbs sliced into his arms, he would not allow himself to cry out in pain.  "Who are you?!"

            "The enemy, of course," was all the silhouette replied in a smooth calm voice.

            Logan turned to check on Hank, but noted that only wires with their barbs dripping with blood remained.  He'd escaped.  "Hank…" he uttered.

            "He won't get far as wounded as he is, I assure you," the silhouette stated, "he'll bleed to death, be eaten by the wolves."

            Sean's eyes were blazing with anger but he could not seem to muster up the power to speak nor scream.

            Logan could already feel each wound that had opened up by the barbs begin to quickly heal, this had not seemingly been noticed by the men of his party, he was thankful for this, if they'd known about his magical healing powers, he'd have been abandoned, outcast, and never be able to return to Bayville, not even to get Rogue.

            A short fellow, with filthy matted brown hair, pale pasty skin, eyes a strange shade of green that almost verged on yellow, and a strange hunch to his posture scurried over, "this one, yes?" he asked of the silhouette above, he seemed almost thrilled.

            "Yes, Toad, that one.  Take his sword…arrange for it to be taken back to Bayville…have the village advised that their best warrior is dead, and that it is futile to continue sending their pathetic soldiers.  If they know what is wise they will comply."

            Lady Katherine flicked her wand towards the rat that was scurrying around inside a wooden box on the floor, she recoiled slightly and hissed "Somnus celeriter , somnus iam!"

            Her wand quaked a little within her grasp but did nothing more than slightly smoke at the end, she despaired, "I can't do this…this rat is vile and disgusting!" she cried.

            "If you can't use the spell correctly on a rat, Lady Katherine, how are you going to ever use the spell on anyone else?" the Magus Xavier stated, his voice always became all the firmer when he was tutoring her on the ways of magic. 

The Magus was passionate about magic, very clever and cunning, and he took it seriously, which meant when it came to learning the spells, he was not as patient as Katherine might have liked.  But it was all part of the learning process, and besides, he was so much more bearable than half of the teachers for history and etiquette she'd had as a child.   He was kinder, too.

Katherine sighed and sat folded legged upon the floor, not caring if she got the dress she was wearing dirty, it wasn't hers after all, and besides, it was stained anyway.  "I just…I don't understand this spell…"

"Then it is no surprise that it is not working," the Magus Xavier responded, and folded his arms neatly, hands disappearing beneath his long sleeves, "you must have an understanding of magic…" he pulled his hands out of his sleeve, revealing his fine wand. 

The Magus had a beautiful wand carved purely from frosted crystal.  It had a prominent crooked shaft, but when it caught the light it was almost like an icicle and seemed to glow white when the Magus's hand was around its silverwired handle.  The faceted amethyst on the handle glimmered, catching the light.

Katherine watched as the Magus raised his wand and pointed it towards a silver drinking chalice upon the table.  "Ver Unda," he whispered softly, and the chalice rattled, and then, water began to rise within it, spilling over from the sides, dribbling over the table and falling onto the floor, absorbing into the stone.  He flicked his wand again and it stopped.  "Tell me the form of magic for the spell I just used…"

Katherine paused, "Uhm…I…don't know," she winced, "I'm sorry, I'm not very good at this."  
            "Katherine…you'll never be a great sorceress until you begin to understand the magic around you…water…fire…earth…wind….air…those spells all require nature magic…understanding of nature is essential, respect for nature is essential – it is from nature your wand will draw it's energy and magic.  I have told you this so many before times before…you MUST respect nature if you are to succeed."

Katherine sighed and pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging them tightly, "I do respect nature," she lied, actually she hated nature, hated the buzz of the bees, smell of cut grass and the dust that would flow in the wind.  How could she be expected to respect these things?

"The somnus spell is perhaps too advanced for you, Katherine," the Magus sighed, "I had hoped after your first year of my tutoring that you'd be talented by now, but you are failing terribly…I feel I might not be working you hard enough."

"You are, Magus," Katherine assured, "I'm just…maybe I don't have it in me," she sighed.  "Maybe I don't have the talent."

The Magus sighed, "if you are to ever make any of your magic work correctly you must remain focused, have an understanding of what you're doing, you must focus all the right energies into your wand."

Katherine sighed, "I don't think I can, Magus."

"I think you underestimate yourself sometimes, Lady…" he said, he gestured his wand towards a large wooden chest against the wall, he twirled it in the air a little and chanted, "turpis manuum."

The chest lid swung open at the command, and a rattling came within, then, a long mahogany wood box bracketed raised from the chest, and began to glide as he gestured his wand to Katherine. 

Katherine raised her eyebrows as the long wooden box dropped into her lap.  "What is this?"

"Call it a gift," he said, "I do not think you are ready…but...I feel that great things are coming your way soon, and you will need it."

Katherine raised an eyebrow, "it's locked…" she said softly.

The Magus reached within the inside pocket of his robes and retrieved the tiniest silver key, "here…" he leaned over slightly to hand her the key.

Katherine unlocked the box and raised the lid.  She let out an audible gasp at the sight before her.  It was a wand, so much more grand than the plain wooden practise wand she'd been using for the last year.  This was made of frosted crystal, a shade clearer than the Magus's wand but still as beautiful.  The wands shaft was carved into a spiral, and the handle ended in a fine large Amethyist sphere, several different coloured stones lined a quarter of a way down the shaft.  The very tip of the wand seemed to glow as she touched the handle with her fingers.

"It's beautiful…" she whispered, "I've never seen anything so intricate before…"

"It's made from Selenite," the Magus stated, "very difficult to get, and very expensive," he explained.  "But I have faith you're going to make good use of this wand."

Katherine drew her breath, "I'll try."

"Now…use the Somnus spell again, my Lady, and THIS time…focus."

Lady Katherine stood up, drew her breath and stared in the box, the rat was still there, scurrying to all four corners of it looking for a way out.  She swallowed nervously, raised her new wand.  In her hand, it seemed to become lighter and swifter, and the Amethyst sphere upon the handle, which pressed upon her palm, seemed to grow hot to the touch.  She could feel the energy from the wand.

            She did as she was told.  She focused, focused so much her head hurt with the strain.  The room grew cold, she dared not take her eyes off the rat even though it repulsed her.  Around the room the candles flickered, the fire began to die.  The room grew dark around her, yet, the wand began to light up incredibly bright, her eyes widened.

            "Now, Katherine, now!" the Magus called to her.

            Katherine flicked her wand towards the rat as she cried out the words of the spell.  The words echoed around the room, bouncing off the cold walls, "Somnus celeriter , somnus iam!"

            The light shot from the wand, hitting the rat and disappearing as if absorbing into the foul rodent.  The candles stopped flickering and the fire roared back to life, the room came back to life around her again, but as she stared down into the box, all that remained was a rat lying on its side, as if it had fallen in death.  Yet, as Katherine peered in closer, she could see its tiny body pulsing with its breath.

            The Magus smirked, "I think you're ready now."


End file.
